October 18, 2015

Emma von Abele

There is no way of knowing,
Where this path is going,
If at all I breathe, or
If at all I’m growing.

I have no road to see,
I have no place to be,
My shoulders pointed down, just
The holes, the sky, and me.

I can hear no sound,
I only have the ground,
As I spin around
There is no way of knowing.